


For your pleasure

by mr_bulldops_trash



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: F/M, POV First Person, Quickies, Rough Sex, Semi-Public Sex, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-18
Updated: 2017-01-18
Packaged: 2018-09-18 07:00:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,716
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9373262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mr_bulldops_trash/pseuds/mr_bulldops_trash
Summary: In which a boring day in the life of a grocery store cashier gets a little more interesting when a certain scientist steps in to shop for some personal items.





	

**Author's Note:**

> WTF am I even doing? I don't write /reader fics, ever. I blame Rick for this. Feel free to do the same.
> 
> PS: I hate second-person narrative and refuse to use it, so first-person it is.

Three more boring hours at the register. The grocery store's speakers are set on a pop music radio station, and they're currently playing the same fucking chart topper that I've already heard four times today. Sunday shifts in July are the absolute worst, because the whole place is so dead. All the regular customers are on holidays and no one is stepping a foot inside our little store when the sun is shining outside and parks are full of ice cream stands. So I'm stuck on the register, with only two other workers in the whole store, and I'm bored out of my mind with only a couple of customers every fifteen minutes or so. Two hours and fifty-seven minutes to go. Fuck.

There's a loud, echoing burp coming from the personal hygiene products section, and I feel a hint of curiousity. A drunk? He certainly looks like one, I think with the sharp-edged amusement of a long-time customer servant, as the man strolls towards my checkout. Tall, old, perpetually angry-looking guy with blueish crazy hair and a lab coat of all things - wait, I know who he is. He comes around every once in a while with some nervous-looking kid and usually buys kind of weird stuff, like five big jars of pickles or an entire shelf-full of batteries. The kid calls him Rick, I think.

Rick stops to glare at the cooler right by the checkout and I take the chance to have a good look at him. He _is_ old - 50 or 60 at least, so practically a mummy from the perspective of a twentysomething - but he has a lively air about him. His movements are purposeful, his hands look strong, and despite the bald spot and wrinkly forehead, he doesn't look bad at all. Sort of handsome in a worn-down way, actually, like an ageing rock star. With the ego of one as well, I bet.

I quickly banish that particular train of thought when he slams the cooler door closed and walks to the register. "Hi there!" I chirp with my irritatingly positive customer service voice, and he looks up and gives me a quick once-over. I can almost feel his eyes on my skin. I could swear there's a hint of smile on his lips as he drops his items on the conveyor belt. My heart skips a beat.

Three packs of condoms and a can of Red Bull.

This fucking asshole. It's like he knew my thoughts, even though it's impossible. And now I'm fully imagining him using those condoms (Who buys three packs at once from a corner store? Does he have a private harem? Why do I feel jealous about it?), sinking inside a willing body in some dimly-lit bedroom. I blush against my will. And Rick, the motherfucker, he _smirks_ when he sees it. "Hold up," he says, goes back to the cooler, grabs another can of energy drink and brings it to the belt as well. I don't even attempt to understand, I just swallow my embarrassment and scan his items.

As he's swiping his card, one of my coworkers stops by. "Hey, you wanna take your cig break now?"

"Yeah, sure." I definitely need it. "Here's your receipt, and have a nice day!" I say to Rick with my biggest fake smile on.

His fingers touch mine as he takes the receipt. "Oh, I'm definitely going to!" He winks at me. Jerk.

*

The alley behind the store is empty, just the trash cans stinking the place up in the sunlight. I light my cigarette and take a deep drag, closing my eyes. The warmth feels nice.

"Red Apples, huh? I would have-have thought you were a Marlboro kind of girl."

I almost drop the cancer stick. Barely ten feet away, holding the plastic bag with the store logo on it, Rick is standing there, looking at me and smiling. "What do you want?" I snap. The customer service rules don't apply when I'm on a break and some old pervert has followed me to a back alley.

He steps closer. "Well, I-I was just having some concerns about the quality of the - of my purchases. And as an employee of the store, I thought y-you might be able to put my mind at ease." I'm red again. Fucking hell. "Specifically," he pulls out one of the condom packs, "do the ribs actually make a difference f-for the person I'm fucking?"

His damn voice alone makes me wet, but I try to return to the professional approach, my last straw. "Well sir, I think you need to take them for a test drive and then ask the person afterwards." He's way too close to my comfort zone, but I'm not stopping him.

"What, you don't have a, a personal experience?"

"...Not from that brand, no."

A smirk. "Would you _like_ some?"

A dozen different outraged responses dance on my tongue, from telling him to fuck off to actually screaming help. But what comes out of my mouth is a low "My break ends in ten minutes." Fucking traitor mouth.

Rick takes the final steps to my personal space, puts the condom pack in his pocket and places a hand on my hip. "No worries, sweetheart, I know what I'm doing."

And he does. He really, really does.

I drop the cigarette to the ground as he attacks my neck with hungry kisses, licks and little bites. One hand in my hair and the other squeezing my ass, he presses his body against mine and I already feel weak from arousal when I feel his erection poking my lower belly. Fuck dignity, I want this. I want him. I pull his hair to guide his face to mine and kiss him hard enough to bruise something. His tongue slips into my mouth and I find myself grinding against him, making little whiny noises.

He picks me up without a warning - fuck, he's strong - and puts my back against the brick wall. I squeeze my legs around his middle and moan when his rock hard dick grinds against my dripping wet pussy. "Too many clothes," he grunts, and I couldn't agree more. I put my legs down and start working his zipper open, then pull down his boxers. I take a sharp breath. He's big. The sight makes my pussy throb.

Rick chuckles at my face and pulls a condom from his pocket, sliding it swiftly over his boner. "Give a guy a little love?" He nods down, and with less spite than I'd care to admit, I kneel and promptly take his cock in my mouth. "Fuck yeahhh," Rick sighs over my head as I lick and suck his condom-covered length, making sure it's completely wet, for my own sake. The clock ticking in the back of my mind, I get up pretty soon and give Rick's earlobe a teasing lick. He doesn't waste any time getting me out of my jeans and sneakers and dropping to his knees, taking me by surprise by sticking his tongue between my wet lips. I tremble and gasp as he strokes his tongue along my cunt, dipping it in as deep as it goes and then flicking the tip over my clit. I want his dick inside me more than I've ever wanted anything.

"Fuck me already!" I hiss, and he stands up with a devilish smile, ready to obey. He lifts me up again, I wrap my legs and arms around him, and finally he slides his dick inside me. "Ohhh..." I sigh, it's a lot but it feels so good. He starts to move, slowly at first, and at this angle he hits my G-spot _so_ good with each thrust. I cling to him, completely depending on him to keep me up, and my back is rubbing against the wall and I know that's gonna make me sore later, but I absolutely do not care. Rick is picking up the pace, burying himself to the base each time. The wet, slippery sounds of our fucking are spiced with his frantic whispers of "Your pussy's so tight and wet" and "You're such a bad girl, fucking a stranger during your work day" and such, and my increasingly shrill moans.

I feel the pressure rising and dig my nails into Rick's shoulder. "I'm gonna - I can't - !"

"Yesss, come for me baby," Rick growls and kisses me again, and I scream into the kiss as the orgasm hits me like an electric current. I feel my walls tightening around his dick and he squeezes my ass with both hands as he comes too, his last few thrusts sharp and deep. I'm sure I'm gonna have his handprints on my ass for days. I don't mind.

Taking deep breaths, Rick leans against me for a while. My limbs feel like Jell-O but I'm slowly becoming aware of the situation again, and I know I have to get back to work or risk someone coming to find me. I gently push Rick further away, and he lowers me to my feet again, to get my pants back on (which is hard with trembling hands). Rick tucks himself back in as well, and throws the used condom in one of the trash cans. "So, did you f-feel the ribs?" he asks with a shit-eating grin.

I scoff at that. "I don't think so."

He shrugs. "Oh well, at least you had a good time." I try to roll my eyes at him, but it lacks conviction when I think about how messed up I must look and how I have to return to the register with a face that screams 'I just got fucked'.

"T-tell you what. If you wanna give the ribs another chance, I'll be at the - at the bar down the street tonight."

I immediately know that I want to, but I'm trying very hard not to give him the pleasure of realizing it. "I'll think about it."

Rick's smile isn't what I'd call genuine, but it certainly lights up his face. He gives me a two-finger salute and turns to leave, picking up his plastic bag on the way. "Oh yeah, catch!" He throws me one of the Red Bull cans. "Thought you c-could use that afterwards."

Fucking asshole.

**Author's Note:**

> Did you catch my Tarantino reference? xD


End file.
